Air Wave
by Ryfee
Summary: Power lies even in love. — Balthier x Fran. postgame spoilers :discontinued:
1. sky

**Air Wave**

**I** : sky

It really annoyed him how _everyone_ was arguing like that. Seriously, couldn't they just believe this trustable sky pirate? They kept shouting to the radio, causing him to wince a little. Damn, his ears needed therapy more than his weary body did. The long fight throughout the Sky Fortress Bahamut had devoured his energy so much, that he hardly could move now. But he still had a task – an easy task, he would always say – to do. He just needed to put his mighty hands on these glossair rings and then bam!

"Balthier!" This time came the princess's voice through the radio. "Do you understand exactly what it is you're doing?" He noticed, though Ashe's voice still sounded as firm as usual, there was fear in it.

However, being the sky pirate that he was, he responded with his usual, placid voice, "Princess! No need to worry. I hope you haven't forgotten my role in this little story. I'm the leading man. You know what they say about the leading man? He never dies." He emphasized the last words, as he reassured the princess that everything would be okay. That he wouldn't die that _easy_. Or so he hoped.

The gunman slotted in a power battery to power up the Bahamut. He rolled his brown eyes to scrutinize the things outside, and found the fortress flying away from Rabanastre. He couldn't help but feel a bit relieved. "Let's fly! Fran! Power the glossair rings!" But when no reply voiced, the brown haired guy looked over his shoulder and saw his teammate pinned down under some metal structures. A sigh escaped his lips. "Do I have to do everything around here?"

Balthier walked over to the Viera and it's when the princess' voice echoed in his ears again. "Listen to me, Balthier! Get out of Bahamut immediately! Please, Balthier! You mustn't die! Please, Balthier." Her voice grew weaker as worry began to stir inside her, and she felt something bubbling in her stomach. "Come back." She begged desperately, hoping her friend would follow her words. But Ashe knew the result of this already. After some time traveling with the gunman… She knew him. She knew he would not follow her words.

He stretched out his arms and carried the delicate body of his friend gently. Fran, with the last strength she had, managed to smile faintly – so faint that it was almost unseen. "I'd say you're in more of a supporting role." With that her red eyes closed, hidden under her eyelids.

"Fran, please." The huge sky fortress was flying away from the royal city of Rabanastre, flying away from its worried people, flying away from its chaos and in the end, giving that kingdom some serenity. Shadows fell upon the land as the Bahamut flew lower, lower, and lower… "Vaan, the Strahl's in your hands! You'd better take care of her, you hear? If there's one scratch on her when I get back–"

Vaan replied almost immediately, in a determined tone, "roger that. We'll be waiting for you."

Meanwhile, Lady Ashe was staring at the falling Bahamut in worry. Didn't that gunman understand what he was actually doing? Didn't he know that he was putting himself in danger? Didn't he know that he might die? "Balthier…" she murmured in a low voice. For now, she could only hope. Hope. Something within her grasp, but beyond her sight. Something so near, yet so far away.

Balthier gazed outside blankly, as the fortress slowly but surely reached the land beneath. Still with Fran in his arms, he averted his stare back inside the room. "Now it's time for the hero thingy." He glanced around before running out the room; his hurried footsteps echoed for seconds until no other sound than the crashing structures took over the whole fortress. Now, now. He really needed to be careful, didn't he? Well, unless he wanted to die young.

He was lucky when a big pillar fell, crushing the things below it to bits and he survived. Aint he being a lucky leading man today? He was still lucky when he saw a small flying vehicle not so far from where he stood. He ran towards it as fast as he could due to the death he was facing. A breath of relief slipped out from his mouth while he laid Fran first, on the seat next to his. A second later he seated himself and began to move the escape vehicle. Or escape ship. Or whatever.

The whole fortress was shaking so violently now, and Balthier knew he had to be going. So he did. Much to his surprise, the thing he was in flew – not that he didn't like it, though. It was just too surprising at this moment, when everything seemed to face only one thing called _death_… He was still lucky until the Bahamut crashed against the ground as it exploded, gushing out fire everywhere.

Now. He didn't think he was still lucky at all. Vicious fire danced exquisitely with its own way, teasing their weakness as it glued on the escape ship; it was on fire now and the gunman knew this _flying thing_ wouldn't make it out. They were in the fire reach, trapped in the vermilion cage thus from this view, no one would be able to see them. And he cursed more. If only the escape was a little easier than this…

He looked up and between the dancing fire, he could see something blue beyond… blue… blue carpet with white puffs everywhere. The _sky_. "C'mon dear… You can make it…" He gritted his teeth.

Balthier was focusing on the way when suddenly a blinding light went into his eyes. He turned his head right before a faint green glow radiated from the Viera's body dissipating into nothingness. A frown etched to his face. What was that glow?

But then everything went dark.

* * *

The verdant grass beneath him kept him feel snug and safe, the multi-hued flowers around him brought a fragrant scent into the air and the birds were singing their lullaby, together with the rustling leaves they created a serenade of equanimity. If he hadn't seen grey smoke emanating from the ship close to him, he would have thought he was in the heaven. But this was reality, and he was still alive. And everything was too beautiful. Looks like they had been thrown quite miles away.

The sky pirate winced when the pain caused by his wounds seared his body. He bit his bottom lip in hopes he wouldn't shriek or something, and it worked. Seconds later, as he recollected his memories and went through them, he blinked. He fixed his look on the now broken ship as he came to realization. "Oh damn… too much for a hero, don't you think?" He climbed to his feet slowly, trying move as carefully as he could, not wanting to hurt his body more than this; it was so painful already.

He suddenly caught the sight of a gun lying on the ground not far from him, and he approached it, looking at it for awhile, before eventually keeping it for himself. When he couldn't find any sign of his partner's bow, Balthier walked towards what appeared to be the 'door' of the ship. Well, it was only a big crevice, actually. He couldn't make out where the real door was, now, could he? As expected, the Viera was still there, lying hopelessly. He stretched out his arms and again, carried her frail body with ease. "You can be much of trouble sometimes, Fran." He said, exiting the ship.

Much to the gunman's surprise, the Viera's eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing impeccable red orbs that shot him a look. "I didn't ask you to save me, did I?" Her voice, although seemed hoarse and weak, still sounded intimidating in his ears.

A sappy smirk ran across Balthier's face. "Now now, since when did the princess wake up?" He asked while walking over to a tree and then laid his companion down on the grass. Fran lifted her face.

"You are mistaken, I fear. I am not a princess. Ashe is." She leaned against a tree, inhaling to fill her lungs with some fresh air before she stared at Balthier again. But only a second after that she turned her head to the ship. He followed her gaze. "We've survived, haven't we? Quite a surprise. I can't remember much of what has happened."

He chuckled. "That's because you've been sleeping for the whole trip, Fran."

She cocked her head to the side, staring at him intently. "And I didn't ask for that."

"Right, right." He chuckled again, amused by his teammate's stubbornness. He seated himself right beside her and cast his gaze upwards. Rays of light seeped through the green leaves, shining upon everything as the two remained wordless for awhile, cherishing the silence that lingered in the air. But a moment later he broke the stillness with his usual tone, "And are you alright?"

"Yes." The Viera looked at herself and spoke airily, "some bruises, that is all. No big deal."

"But I think…" Balthier lowered his voice when he looked over his companion's shoulder with an unpleasant look on his face. "There's a _big deal_ here, y'know." Fran turned her head, her white long lock swinging gracefully behind her as she did so. Her red eyes went wide in an instant. "I think… we've got a problem. This isn't good at all, don't you think?"

Fran could only nod slightly, silenced. Their eyes fixed on the broken ship. But the bad thing is, the ship was now making a sound that absolutely was far from congenial to hear. And this didn't look like a good portent at all. The Viera looked at her partner. "Do you know what will happen next?"

"I think," responded Balthier. But when the sound grew louder, louder, and louder from time to time, he knew he had to do something. Something realistic. Something that made sense. So he climbed to his feet in haste as the ship made more noise, shaking a bit when its body started to spew little fire. "I think the ship is a bit _angry_, Fran."

"I guess. And what do ships usually do whenever they get enraged?"

"Explode." With that, Balthier quickly carried her again in his arms, ignoring the muffled shriek coming from her mouth as he spun around and ran away from the ship, as fast as he could. He made it on time. Right when he rolled on the grassy ground, far enough from the ship, it exploded, spouting fire into the air. And he tightened his hold on her, embracing her protectively.

"Wheeww." Balthier let out a breath of relief on top of her. "Looks like we've managed to survive again."

Fran moved some strands of her white hair back and her lips twitched a bit, smiling. "The leading man plays his role really well, does he not?" He grinned, moving away from her and sat on the ground. Fran sat up and glanced towards the direction of the ship, before fixing her look on him again. "Now that Vayne has gone and the Bahamut is nothing more than a memorable monument, I am sure Rabanastre will be back to the way it was. And Ashe, she'll be a queen soon."

"Yeah." He gazed blankly at the clouds adorned firmament. No matter how many times he looked up at the sky, it never ceased to amaze him. Various white wisps of clouds were always there, figuratively jewelries to such stainless beauty. He leaned back, stretching out his arms behind to support him, and inhaled. "And what will we be?"

Fran had also shifted her look upwards. "We? Sky pirates, still."

"Right. The sky is where we belong, after all." Balthier sighed and rubbed at his temples. "Well, shouldn't we be going now or something? You are not planning to stay here till you starve to death, are you?"

Fran cocked her head to the side, as she reached his hands he'd offered to her. "I am not." She stood on her feet and ran a hand through her white smooth hair, placing a hand on her hip. "But where to?"

"And you need to be healed first, that's for sure." He observed her with his hazel eyes before he concluded, "pinned down by metal structures is not fun at all, is it?" Fran only shook her head, wincing a bit. She still didn't feel well, though. Her body ached a lot. But being a tough Viera that she was, she still acted strongly, keeping everything inside. "Then what about going to Nalbina first? We don't have many choices now. Beside, it's the closest city we can get from here." Her partner said.

She shrugged. "That sounds okay. But," she looked over her shoulder, trying to see through the thick grey smoke but failed in her effort to. "Don't you think we need our weapons? Sad. I've lost my bow, that is to be exact." She looked at him, in mind wondering whether he'd gotten his gun back or not.

"Well," He reached behind his back and revealed a dust covered gun. "It does look unconvincing, but it still works. It is enough to keep you safe, at least."

Fran gave him a smile. "That sounds good. You're the leading man, after all."

A grin spread across the gunman's face. "Let's go then."

* * *

It was quite queer to hear the bang of his gun ringing alone in the forest, echoing off the trees unaccompanied by the sound of her bow's string whenever an arrow was released. It was always bullets and arrows piercing through their enemies' bodies, but now only bullets were there. She always fought alongside him, but now she was standing behind him, only used her fists whenever the monsters got too close to her. But in that case, Balthier never allowed it to happen. He always killed the beasts in time, not letting even one to touch the Viera. Well, Fran could still battle, if only she had more strength now…

Another bang filled the air, causing some birds to fly off their nests towards the sky, frightened. Fran, who had been staring at her partner's back for the whole time, finally looked up and spoke with her familiar accent, "it's getting dark. The sky is shrouded with blood. The cheerfulness of blue has gone."

Balthier shuddered at Fran's statement; his brows were drawn into a frown. "Oh c'mon Fran, don't speak that way! It makes me feel scared y'know. Can't you just say the sky is orange like _citrus_ or something?" Fran smiled at this as she muttered a quiet 'sorry' in amusement. "Oh well, are you okay?" The brown haired guy walked closer to her, studying her in a way that made the Viera twitch a bit. "You don't look really fine."

"I'm okay." Her voice betrayed her mind and heart. She really needed a place to rest, damn it. Fran sighed, looking at the thick line of trees longingly. She'd never felt this exhausted before.

"Need to be carried again, m'lady?" Balthier asked solemnly, as he tried his best to hide his grin.

Fran glared at the gunman and walked past him, looking over her shoulder as she said, "thank you for the offer, but I'm not a child, Balthier. I am even older than you, if you're aware of that fact."

He let out a soft chuckle. Balthier just stared at her back for awhile; deep inside admiring her beauty. Her cocoa skin seemed to glow under the ochre radiance, and her white long hair, highlighted by the light of the sun, looked even more enthralling than ever. Her swift moves always attracted his attention, and whenever he cast his gaze on her, he would find himself drained into her purity. And he would be mesmerized more.

Sighing for one last time, he caught up with her and gave her his usual smile. "Let the hero lead the way." He smirked.

* * *

The sun had already set by the time they reached Nalbina Town. When they stepped into the city, they could feel euphoria lingering in the air, as the inhabitants laughed in mirth and joked around so freely. No worries strewn across their faces. He could still remember the day when he'd visited this place with the princess and the others… It truly brought back memories. Now that the war was over, everything looked thousand times livelier.

"We need to find a place to rest soon." He said, as he glanced around trying to find a hotel.

"Right." Fran's paces were wavering now and she walked slower and slower. Noticing this, Balthier quickly supported her with his arm. The journey to this city had been quite difficult, and it had drained so much of her strength.

"Fran? Can you hang in there for a little longer? We almost –" But the Viera had closed her eyes, fainting from fatigue, only to fall to his embrace. The gunman cursed slightly as he gently carried her in his arms. His brown orbs rolled warily in attempt to find a sign of a hotel or something, but failed. Sighing in exasperation, he walked over to the closest merchant and asked courteously, "excuse me, can you tell me where the hotel is?"

The man in question lifted his face, and his eyes bulged almost instantly. Well, Balthier knew it wasn't common to see a Hume hanging out with a Viera together, but couldn't this man be a little more polite? The look given to him was indeed rude thus the gunman couldn't help but glare at the merchant. Realizing the intimidating glare, the man blinked in fright and notified him, "uhm, not far from here. Just follow this path and before the cafe, go right. From there just go straight and you'll see one. It can't be missed."

Balthier muttered a quiet thank you before leaving. Behind his back, he could feel the merchant's disbelief stare glued on him.

* * *

After taking Fran to the hotel and leaving her with some medics there, Balthier went out to get some fresh air. He had taken a quick bath in the hotel to clean his self a little, though. He couldn't go out with dirty face and body, could he? Beside, the hot bath had helped him relax a little. He could think more clearly now.

And now, when he was alone, accompanied by nothing and no one but solitary, his mind started to wander around. He cast his gaze downwards, lost in thoughts. They survived. They were still alive, but the others would probably think they were dead already. He mentally laughed at this, imagining how Vaan would react if he knew that he and Fran were still alive. Or Ashe. How she'd sounded so worried before. How would the princess act? What would the others say?

But his mind still focused on one certain thing. This thing had been bothering him for awhile, but due to them being busy on the way to Nalbina Town, Balthier had almost forgotten about this. Yet now he remembered again.

How they had survived from the Bahamut was still like a miracle, and at the same time, a mystery. But that didn't bother him as much as this one did…

What was that glow? The one that had been radiated from Fran's body. That green glow. Well, he couldn't recall Fran emit such glow throughout their journey as sky pirates. That was just too peculiar. He planned to ask the Viera about this later, but then buried his intention down, deep in his mind. No, he wouldn't ask her about this. Maybe he should wait for a little longer to see more.

He eventually lifted his face and gazed at the sky. Soon it was embraced by a dark blanket, as twinkling stars emerged, shining luminously.

The gunman sighed and whirled on his heel.

-- - **T**_o_**B**_e_**C**_ontinued

* * *

_

¤**author's note** : zomg. A chaptered balfran O:  
Well, this takes place after the game. No explanation about how they survived, so don't sue me. xD;  
& it takes like, one year before Ashe's coronation, so I have a lot to fill there. _Balfran_, of course :D (also how they'll go to Bervenia)  
& oh, about their past, I'll write about it, too.  
if you want me to add some things (including more possible pairings?), please, tell me.

And I suppose, from now on, we should call this pairing 'BALFRAN'? Because 'balthifran' just sounds weird. And long. xDD;;

Oh well, I hope you liked the first chapter. Please send me your thoughts. & I'll update as soon as I can :D


	2. disparity

**Air Wave**

**II** : disparity

His black boots made a barely audible sound as they pressed against the well polished wood floor. He closed the door behind him carefully as his trained eyes traveled around the dim lit lobby warily, trying to figure out where the right path leading to his room was. Well, not exactly 'his room', because he had to share it with Fran. Damn this hotel for lacking of rooms, he mentally cursed. What kept him composed was that the room had separate beds, so he didn't really mind.

As his figure passed, not even a single person looked at him and he thanked God for that. Sometimes he just loathed those suspicious looks he was always given. But now as he stared at them from the corner of his eye, they didn't seem to care, not even the slightest. His presence was no more than a sweeping breeze in their eyes. Turning his head and fixing his look on the corridor ahead, he exhaled before resuming walking, this time with steady paces.

The dim lights, the wall, and the doors were reflected in his brown eyes. The reflections were so vivid that they even competed with the real ones. As lights sprayed dancing gleam across his face, he faced a door and soon turned its doorknob, carefully and silently. A second after that the door creaked open, only to expose a room with two beds. On one of them there slept soundly a Viera, his partner Fran. He walked over to her, trying not to wake her up as he did so.

Her black helmet had been taken off and he couldn't help but stare at her. Now that he was looking at her like this… Memories deluged his mind.

"_Why did you use that black helmet?"_

"_Why? This is useful to protect my head, Balthier. I assume you are aware of the fact that even though I have longer life than Humes, I still try to avoid death at all costs. Eluding myself from it. So in other words, you have no objection to ask, nor complain."_

"_But! …You know, you look prettier without that… thing."_

"…_Pardon me?"_

"_But I guess… if this means to keep you safe, I won't complain."_

"…"

"_Yes. Now let's be off. The sky is waiting, m'lady."_

A smirk adorned his face. How they'd met and become partners was still like a dream to him. A wonderful dream. And he wanted to keep that forever. He could remember Fran being so quiet at first, but after some time, she could open up and put her trust on him. Partners always share everything, after all.

He smiled down at her peaceful face and walked over to his bed, pulling his shirt over his head. Lying on the silky white surface, he shifted his look upwards and stared at the ceiling. The fragrant scent of flowers in the vase went into his nose, calming his nerves down. He inhaled, filling his lungs with fresh air and closing his eyes in try to sleep. When darkness took over, he soon was embraced by ephemeral dreams. And in his dream land, reality became a far-off _dream_.

* * *

The first thing she saw was the ceiling. She blinked several times, dazzled by the light that seeped through the windows. A minute later she carefully sat up, then observed the room with her crimson eyes vigilantly. Not long after that, her eyes caught the sight of a figure sleeping on the other bed not far from her. She rose from her bed, long ears flipping back and forth as she took more steps to examine the sleeping gunman. Fran tilted her head. "Balthier?" When no response spoken, the Viera turned on her heel heading for the window.

She opened it almost too quickly. Once the window was completely open, she jumped over to the terrace agilely, making no sound as her long feet stepped on the floor. Gentle breeze swept by, causing her lithe long locks to swing elegantly behind. Bathed by the warm light of the sun, her cocoa skin exuded a captivating luminosity. Resplendent rays poured upon the town, lighting the strewn houses up and bringing a new beginning to everyone. Another new day.

Fran breathed in again. The air was just refreshing… It brought tranquility to her. After closing her eyes for a brief moment, she lifted her head. The rooftop did seem to attract her attention. She jumped and stood on the rooftop swiftly, casting her gaze upon the dawned town. Leaves began to rustle while birds flew from their nests towards the sky, singing in every flap of their wings, greeting the new day.

She felt much better now. Staring up at the sky just brought longing to her heart. Oh how she missed flying in the sky again… Looking for new treasures in hidden mines, dungeons…

But this was just too quiet. This serenity didn't match with flying, hunting for things. But now that she thought about this, sky pirates always went against nature, did they not? At this, a faint small surfaced onto her face.

"Fran? Where are you?" Came the gunman's voice.

She instantly jumped down and when she faced the gunman, her partner gave her a baffled look. To answer his quizzical look, the Viera spoke, "I've been on the rooftop. Just feeling the air, that's all. Everything is changing, I can smell it. Ivalice… is changing."

Balthier's voice came out as almost a chuckle. "Oh yes, changing. And speaking of which, I wonder, will we remain as sky pirates, like, forever?"

His partner didn't seem to give a satisfying answer. "That, I do not know. Let destiny speak itself. We can not see our future. But for surely, beyond all the interlaced paths of our life, there is a future. And there will always a time when a thing such as future comes to our grasp. But for now, we just can wait and walk on our chosen roads."

"Yeah. I guess you're right."

Silence for a moment. Balthier eventually noticed Fran's eyes on him. His bare chest, more like. A playful smirk came across his face almost immediately. "Why are you giving me that look? What? Never seen a hot half-naked guy before?"

"…"

"Enthralled, aren't you?"

"…That sounds like a joke."

"It does?"

"Anyhow," Fran walked past him and looked over her shoulder. "I wouldn't be surprised if you caught a cold. You really should have worn something." With that she headed for the bathroom and as the door swung close, the gunman sighed.

"Now, that's what I call a joke." He shook his head.

* * *

They went out the inn when the sun had risen completely and now everyone was beginning their daily activities. The once serene town changed into something more cheerful. Some people ran hurriedly across the town, exclaiming something no one cared for. Howling mobs were almost everywhere, crowding out the streets like ants. The sky, however, seemed very busy too. White clouds ran after each other, as if they had an airship to catch. Birds were also busy; preoccupied by their own orchestra. Everything was so hectic.

Her voice was a disturbance to the lingering silence between them. "Where are we going, actually?" Fran asked when they walked amongst the people. She didn't have any clue where her partner was taking them to.

"Café. Who knows, maybe I can get a job there. To hunt some monsters, perhaps. We need money first, Fran. We're lack of it. I think Vaan stole our pocket –"

The crimson eyed woman flicked her clinging hair off her face, cocking her head to the side. She apparently had left her helmet in the room; didn't bother to wear it because now she didn't feel the need to. "…I may be mistaken. But I think I heard you speak out an 'I'."

"You are not mistaken, my dear."

She wrinkled her nose. "Since when did you act on your own and leave me behind?"

"Remember the Bahamut?" When Fran nodded, he resumed speaking, "Remember when you fainted and I had to act on my own?" He gave his partner a smirk and Fran, who had been listening to his every word, now furrowed her brows.

"I disapprove with your words. I think I've told you that I didn't ask for that." She folded her arms over her chest, half glaring at the gunman who was only chuckling in amusement. Fran, however, didn't think there was anything funny to laugh at. Yet it was sense of humor that she actually lacked for. "Is there something funny, Balthier?" The Viera asked, quite befuddled by her partner's sudden laughter but she masked herself pretty well. Her taintless face didn't seem to present any noticeable emotions.

"Ah, no. No, m'lady." He snorted. When Fran's white brows were drawn deeper into a frown, Balthier couldn't help but guffaw. This attracted people's attention so he quickly closed his mouth, retaining himself from bursting into any more possible laughter. When his laughter receded, people continued doing their own activities again, completely forgetting about what had happened awhile ago. "Well…" He stared at her for awhile before uttering a conclusion. "You _do_ look pretty without that thing."

With that he stepped into what appeared to be a café. Fran, meanwhile, could only gaze at her partner's back in bewilderment. What his statement was meant for, she didn't know. She shook her head to abolish the popping questions in her mind as she finally followed him into the café.

The smell of liquor went into his nose in an instant. Mingled with the scent of fresh baked breads, it spread across the room and filled the café with the well-known atmosphere. Inhaling deeply, Balthier moved towards the bartender, ordered drinks for the two of them, and seated himself. Only a second after that Fran came, taking a seat beside him.

A cluster of bottles were placed on the table, not very tidily, but neatly enough not to invite displeasing looks from people. The whole room was filled with inevitable noise as everyone talked; whether it was about new treasures or the latest dirty gossip around the town, no one seemed want to stop babbling. Talking was something to fill the gap between their drinks and meals.

When the bartender came back to them with two drinks in his hands, Balthier intertwined his fingers and asked almost immediately, "is there anything new?" The old man turned his head to the gunman, locking gaze with him for awhile before settling the drinks on the table.

"Ya seekin' for a job no?"

"I am." He replied.

The bartender scratched the back of his head. Recalling things was not his first option at that time. Due to him being busy all the time with his café engulfed by crowds almost every time except sleep times, he could hardly remember a thing. "Uhm…" He began, and both Balthier and Fran waited patiently, though Fran didn't look very happy even the slightest. "I think I've got one for ya." The old man bent a little to take something out from a drawer. He showed them a yellow paper, eaten by years and on it there was a picture of a monster. "Need ya to get rid of this and take its claws."

"…Claws?" It was Fran's first comment after quite awhile. The bartended jerked his head at her voice and almost jumped in surprise.

Seeing this, Balthier interfered. "What? Never seen a Hume hanging out with a Viera together?" The expression on the old man's face was obvious enough to explain everything. He _did_ never see a Hume hanging out with a Viera together.

"My apologies. Erh yeah, as I said before, its claws. For herbs, y'know. How does this sound?"

"I'm on it." The gunman grinned before taking a sip of his drink, letting the familiar warm liquid to take over his entire mouth as he savored it. "And Fran," He put the glass back on the table. "Before you can protest any further, I want you to understand the situation. For your safety, you need to rest more. You're not fully recovered yet and I don't want to lose my partner, okay?"

When the crimson eyed woman opened her mouth to voice her objection, Balthier quickly placed his index finger on it. He smiled warmly at her. "No objections this time, okay? We're talking about your life, m'lady."

"…"

"I promise we can hunt together after you're fully recovered."

"…You better keep that, sky pirate."

A smirk emblazoned his face. "I will."

* * *

He'd gone out by himself leaving his partner at the café, and now he was surrounded by trees again. Some monsters roared simultaneously, sending chills down to his spines. Gaining his composure back, Balthier inserted another bullet to his gun and scrutinized the area cautiously. His skilled eyes rolled from time to time in try to catch a figure that matched with the picture on the paper.

As he concentrated on the grassy ground ahead, a part of his mind yearned to be recognized. This thought always bothered him whenever he was alone without her. Of course. It was none other than that green glow. It was still a mystery and it seemed like he couldn't get his mind off it. Somewhere deep in his heart, he knew he had to find more about this.

He jerked his head up so suddenly when another roar reverberated in his ears. A familiar figure came into his sight and he knew what to do. He automatically raised his gun in a quick motion and aimed it at the monster, but unfortunately the bullet missed its target. Instead it hit a tree a few inches beside his foe.

He sneezed.

"Damn. I think you're right Fran."

Another sneeze.

* * *

Her long ears swiveled back and forth, alerted as they amassed information from the talking people. While her eyes rolled from one side to another studying everything, she learned that Dalmasca was ready to recover and the queen's coronation would be held a year later. However, this wasn't the only information she got. Many people were also talking about the new age of the empire, how Lord Larsa would lead Archadians to years of glory and peace. Everyone seemed to have the same topic for their gossip this morning.

"Care to have more drink 'lad?" The bartender who had told her that his name was Dave asked. She jerked her head at his voice, white curls whipping at her face, red eyes rolling towards his direction, and long ears flipping backwards.

Fran only shook her head politely muttering a quiet 'no thanks' before averting her gaze towards the people again, lost in thoughts. As far as her eyes could see, there was no sign of people grouping with Viera. There wasn't even a Viera there, for heaven's sake. Yeah, except her, of course. Humes most likely didn't partner with Viera, as spoken in history that Viera incarcerated themselves inside the Wood, staying away from whatever was happening with Ivalice and Humes.

But she was different, wasn't she?

She, in fact, had abandoned her home and people and to complete her ironic fairytale, she ended up partnering with a Hume. She gained what she had been looking for; freedom. But to pay that price, she was rejected by the Wood and its people. Surprisingly enough, she didn't really care.

She was different.

This difference… sometimes really bothered her. Sometimes she inquired herself questions that couldn't be answered, sometimes she wondered if her choice to leave the Wood was right, sometimes she asked herself what actually made her different from the others.

Sometimes she was tired of questioning herself and let everything flow like water.

Fran exhaled and interlaced her fingers together, studying the area again as she murmured in a low tone, "how prosaic…"

* * *

She couldn't help but smirk in amusement when she saw her companion sneezing over and over in the past ten minutes. She tilted her head as Balthier gave up with his cards and banged them on the table. "Tired already, no?" She said.

"I want to stop sneezing. Really, I do."

She grinned. "You should have worn something, I told you."

"But it was hot, okay?"

"Now who needs to take a break for awhile?"

The gunman didn't say anything. Instead he rested his legs on the table and folded his arms behind his head. Fran eyed him for awhile, knowing how bad his mood was that time. Balthier simply didn't like any 'bad condition' because it meant an obstacle to his treasure hunting and his so-called 'career' as a sky pirate. No job, no money. No treasure, no money.

"How was the hunt today?" She asked in monotone.

"Fine. Except when I sneezed over and over and missed the target from time to time. Sucked, I know." He replied with a heavy sigh.

Her red eyes were suddenly attracted by light coming through the windows. She shifted her look from her partner to it, blinking several times as she spotted the moon hanging in the sky dauntlessly. Fran looked at him again with unreadable expression on her face. "Want to go out in a bit? The moon looks nice today." She asked and he shrugged, but rose from his seat nonetheless.

As soon as they stepped out their room to the terrace, the moon hailed them with its beaming pale light. Clusters of stars stretched across the dark sky, sparkling gaily as they escorted the princess of night showering glitters upon the town. The sky was decorated temptingly, taintless without blemish. For awhile, she just gazed at the heavens, this time awe was clearly seen upon her face. Not so long after that she spoke, "…we rarely can see pretty moon like this from the Wood."

"Oh?" Balthier arched one of his eyebrows.

"In the Wood, there are so many trees that even the sun or the moon is blocked from our sight. We hardly can see a thing. Isolated, it is."

"…Yeah. That… sucks."

"What keeps us alive and hope for tomorrow is the light of the sun. Even though it's only a little, it is enough to bring hopes to our hearts."

"And now," The gunman stretched out his arms a bit and yawned. "Now that you can see the sun and moon fully, how does it feel?" He asked, to which Fran replied with a warm smile. Strange how a small smile from her like that could ease him a lot, relaxing his mind so abruptly…

"It feels good." She answered.

"Something bothering you, Fran?"

The Viera's stomach suddenly gave a jolt as she turned her head to him. His brown eyes gleamed mischievously and a small smirk crept to his face. In her contemplation, Fran finally reckoned he was being an observer right now, with his so-called ability to read people's mind. Not like she really believed him though. The gunman always joked around that sometimes she wondered when he was actually being serious.

A single ear turned to his direction while the other stayed still, unmoving. "Why did you say so?" She asked, eyes rolling towards his profile skeptically. "Being an observer again, aren't you?"

He chuckled slightly, arms crossed over his chest and the previous smirk had apparently changed into something bigger and more impish. "Oh well, I am, am I not? Want me to share this ability so you can read my mind as well?"

"…Not interested."

"Oh okay. Back to our topic. Is something bothering you, woman? Because it seems like you have something in mind."

She shrugged unsurely. "I don't really know. But yes, maybe I have something in mind."

"Do speak."

"…" She inhaled, hoping the fresh night air could bring serenity to her heart and aid her in speaking. She was never the one to talk much; she wasn't as talkative as the gunman, but the bonds between them had helped her to trust him and she could open up and talk more. "I… I have been just wondering what makes me different from the other Viera. Why I wanted to partner with a Hume? Why I abandoned my home, siblings, and friends? Why I chose to leave the arms that held me tightly in the past?" She let out a sigh. "This morning when I was in the café alone, I learned much. Never ever did history mention about a Viera hanging out with a Hume together. And it is clear. I think it's just me that goes against the law."

"I too, go against it, y'know. But who cares?" Balthier said airily, smiling. "What about rewriting the pages of history eh? Sounds like fun, don't you think? I wonder if we get paid by doing that."

"…Only money is in your head, is it not, sky pirate?"

"Ah." He unfolded his arms and gave her a meaningful smile, but she just cocked her head to the side, flustered. "Not really. I do have something else in my mind."

"And you won't speak of it, will you?"

"No until later."

"Hhh… Fine."

"Well, difference is not bad, Fran." He leaned against the wall while she stood still, wind blowing her long locks slightly. Even under the pale light of the moon she still looked as captivating as ever. Compared to her, he was nothing. His skin was too customary for his own taste, while hers looked like coffee – so warm and addictive. Her white hair, regardless of what other people said, he still thought it was beautiful; a gift Humes couldn't have. She was a marvel in his eyes.

"…Care to tell why?"

He smiled, turning on his heel as he looked over his shoulder locking gaze with her. "Because the difference you have makes you special and unique. And so, no can replace you." With that he turned his head, waved a hand in the air, and said, "I'm sleepy. Go in if you've had enough time watching the moon 'kay?" And the door swung close silently behind him.

For mere seconds that felt like a short eternity, Fran could only stare blankly at the spot where her companion had been before, as if that place was something so precious; something memorable and important. She might look so emotionless right now, but inside, her mind was struggling with words and thoughts. Musing had become one of her habits, so it wasn't quaint at all to see her deep in thoughts again, especially when there was only silence accompanying her.

Inside, Balthier's words echoed repeatedly.

Inside, she felt so ease.

And she gained her confidence.

No. She didn't regret leaving the Wood. She didn't regret partnering with Humes at all. Because one of them… had made her realize so many things. A certain Hume had taught her how life actually felt like.

And she thought it was amazing.

Her high heels rang noiselessly in the air as she walked slowly towards the door leading inside. Fran carefully opened the door, closing it once she was inside and a moment later she approached the sleeping gunman. A small smile came to her face as abruptly as warmth had inundated her heart.

She bent a little to draw the blanket closer to his neck.

She hoped it would keep him warm enough.

* * *

¤** author's note** : an update. & to answer an anon's question, I think I can put vaan_x_penelo here, but it'll be minor 'cause this fict centers on balfran. Like yeah, of course. Thanks a lot to those who have reviewed the first chapter.  
and I could have updated sooner if only school didn't choose to bitch on me )x  
but yeah.

Please review & I'll see you in the next chapter.  
(I'll update as soon as I can :p)


	3. progress

**Air Wave**

**III** : progress

Balthier smirked smugly as he inserted another bullet into his gun, from afar a loud thud could be distinctly heard. Another monster had fallen under his weapon, his catastrophe he always felt proud of. He turned his gaze from his gun and swiveled around, just to see whether his partner had killed her prey or not. As expected, the bow specialist had beaten a monster down and was now standing on a big rock, her white long locks swaying with the wind behind. He whistled.

"Have you had enough fun, Fran?"

The Viera turned her head to him, lips twitching to form a small smile he got used to see. Her ruby eyes gleamed blissfully in the radiant light of the sun. "Yes, most likely. It's as if you've woken up from a long boring dream and now you can see the beauty of the world again," she gestured her hand around; as if she was showing off old valuable statues and weapons in a museum. "This is magnificent." She added, grinning.

Balthier couldn't help but laugh. It was the first day he and Fran set out together after three weeks being caged in Nalbina, without even a chance to go out due to inopportune situations. Balthier's flu had been really bad that to his aversion he had to take rest more than he'd expected. Fran's condition, however, hadn't been fit enough to be brought down onto the battlefield. So now with new vigor residing on them, they killed many monsters as ravenously as a wild beast ate its preys.

They killed them with reasons though. First, they needed to search for an item the bartender had asked, and second, to satisfy their selves after almost a month being secluded from the outer world. Both of them had never felt so alive like this before. Even the quiet Viera Fran wanted to scream at the top of her lungs in exhilaration.

Tossing her white hair back, she jumped swiftly from a rock to another before landing right beside her partner. "So where are we going now? You've got the item in your pocket, have you?" She asked, and though her face didn't portray her burning soul, his eyes could tell she was agog.

Most people would step back with pleasure, raising hand in defeat whenever it came to reading Viera minds. But to the sky pirate Balthier, it was different. Reading Fran's mind was intriguing and challenging, and as time passed by, after getting with her for quite a long time, he finally could put the puzzle at whole. The reward of being patient and looking at her as a fascinating being instead of a boring one was the sight of Fran's true self. Maybe there was no one out there that could understand her very well like he did.

With a wide smile Balthier shoved his hand into his pocket to retrieve a big crooked fang. Fran's eyebrows arched. He exclaimed, "Just what we need!" The gunman smirked seeing her reaction as he put it back to its place. "I just think, somehow, the bartender is…keen on…" He waved his hand in the air as he attempted to stifle a guffaw. "…monsters' dirty, ugly fragranced fangs."

Fran's lips twitched upwards. "I'd say he's _obsessed_ with them."

He couldn't hold it any longer; he snickered before finally hanging his head, guffawing. Fran eventually laughed along with him.

* * *

As they stepped into Nalbina, the same aura automatically greeted them; the usual activities, the usual inhabitants and their stuff displayed before them, looking as superior as their owners filling every possible space. Walking amongst the crowd, Fran's ears, as usual, moved from one side to another, alert like a supervisor. She jerked her head up when Balthier tapped her shoulder gently, grinning. "Lost your direction, ma'am?" He pointed to the café on his left and it was when she realized she'd strayed from the path she supposed to be in.

Fran looked down, mumbling. "Thoughts would be more _right_."

The brown haired man's grin grew wider as he ushered his partner into the café. "Ah," he rubbed at his chin. "That needn't be told again."

She shot him a look which he himself couldn't sort out, so with an uncertain shrug, he strolled towards the bartender while his hand rummaged in his pocket. With an obvious grin he didn't try to conceal, Balthier gave the fang to the middle aged man, who jovially received it with sparkling eyes. "There you have it, old man." The gunman folded his arms over his chest, satisfied.

"Splendid, splendid! Here you go, my son," his eyes averted from Balthier. He took out something under his counter and with a jolly smile he gave the sky pirate a small box. "Thanks for the fang again, son!"

Smiling and curtsying slightly, Balthier whirled on his heel and approached Fran. In an unspoken agreement, they walked out the café only to be greeted by the warm light of the sun. "Can you guess what is inside?" He lifted his hand so the box could clearly be seen. Fran cocked her head to the side.

"Money?" She stared down at him, wide-eyed, clueless.

He laughed. "Now, now, aren't you obsessed with money, Fran?"

The Viera wrinkled her nose, bewildered. "What? I just think, what is possibly inside there other than money? Isn't money what you always get after hunting and bringing the item your clients have asked?"

Balthier laughed again while Fran could only gaze down at him, having no clue of what was going on. "Well," the gunman rubbed at his temples. "You're too rational, Fran. And beside money, I do think there are _more_ things inside here." He tapped the lid of the box, smiling. "What about a human's finger?" He suggested, innocently.

Fran grimaced. Her voice almost resounded too high-pitched in his ears afterwards. "What? No way." Her eyes almost fell off her eyes because of shock. Human's—human's dead finger? Bloody hell no.

Chuckling, he looked at her playfully. "Ah, I never knew a human's finger could freak you out so badly, dear Fran." He massaged his chin and squinted, as though considering of what to say next. The more dreadful and disgusting the things were, the more fun he would get. "Then what about if…"

"Stop," she said firmly, half-glaring at Balthier. "No more human's finger or _whatever_."

Her friend erupted into laughter.

* * *

The crisp air of autumn engulfed the room as they sat face to face, a box filling the gap between them. As a gentle zephyr permeated through the cracks of the windows to warm the atmosphere up, their eyes fixated on the little object that in the past ten minutes had become a topic he found humorous. Just remembering the expression on Fran's face could make him smirk idiotically, to which his partner would retort with a sarcastic remark and a glare, afterwards, would be added. 

No. Fran really couldn't comprehend this gunman. He had the weirdest sense of _anything_. She sometimes wondered why she'd accepted the offer to go with him in the first place. Maybe it was just _him_, his own true self that had attracted her to him. Maybe it was just _Balthier_.

She turned her eyes to the windows and stared out, watching the fleeting clouds pass by in boredom. Her gaze moved downwards and she saw a line of trees in a distance, their leaves were changing into shades of red and orange, a clear indication that autumn was descending upon this town. The air was less warm than before, sometimes the wind blew too hard that it wasn't necessary to go out too late at nights.

The redden leaves was a change every eye could see, but beyond that, Ivalice was changing too, letting no eyes to detect it. But those who were aware enough would be able to feel it.

She was one of those. From time to time she could feel every layer of this world cracking, cracking, and cracking, opening up and ready to change, ready to grow up for the better or worse. So far, the world had survived its darkest layers and was now showered with glorious light. But there were still too many layers behind, so feeling composed and satisfied right now would be practically wrong.

"Fran?" Balthier suddenly interrupted her train of thought.

She instantly turned her head to him, only to find his eyes penetrating into hers. "Yes?"

One of the edges of his mouth turned upwards, forming a smirk. "You look so distant. Thinking much?" He leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.

"…Not really." Fran shook her head, not wanting to bring up everything she'd always been thinking. Sometimes it irritated her how her thoughts were proved incessant and she couldn't forget or bury them. It was annoying, but it was a part of herself she couldn't reject and had become closer and clearer as she grew up. So hiding her thoughts from everyone else around her was the least she could do. She wasn't the type of person who always voiced out her thoughts and feelings unless she was asked, after all.

"So," Balthier nodded towards the box. "Let's open this then?"

"You open it." Those words ran from her mouth almost immediately and she felt so stupid. Now it looked like she didn't want to open it because she was afraid there would be a human's finger or _something_ inside. Not like the bartender _would_ bother to put one there, though. "I-I mean, go on ahead, open it." She amended her previous words, hoping these ones didn't sound as ridiculous as before.

There was that smirk again on his face. "Oh? You don't want to see what's inside first?"

"No. I _will_ see what is inside in the end, so what's the point?"

He chuckled. "Ah, nice theory over there." Still chuckling, Balthier reached for the box and put it on his lap, eyeing it attentively for awhile as if it was his new born baby or something. And then, very slowly and almost idly, his fingers moved across the lid and took it off. Fran didn't need to raise her head any higher to be able to see what was inside. She was tall enough.

"Money…and herbs?" The Viera cocked her head to one side, stupefied.

Balthier let out a faint chuckle. "Looks like yes." He took some green plants and weird-looking roots out the box. "I wonder why?"

"Maybe he knows your antibody isn't working very well?"

He shot his friend a glare as he put everything back into the box. "I wouldn't say that if I were you, Fran. That can't be taken lightly,"

Fran shrugged and sent her stare out the window again. Autumn. Falling leaves. "I wonder…" Her eyelids closed for a brief moment while images of a wood with abundant amount of trees and their golden leaves injected her mind. The sound of knife clashing against dead logs, the sound of kettles heating up as they exuded vague mist into the air…everything was so vivid in her mind. "I wonder…" She opened her mouth again. "The Wood must be at its best state right now, with golden leaves and bountiful amount of apples hanging on the trees."

He gawked at her for some seconds before he was wise enough to stop being an idiot, and let his words fall. "Pardon me?"

She snapped her head around to greet his eyes. "Nothing. It's just… The Wood always looks perfect in autumn."

"Ooh..." He nodded in acknowledgement and silence fell upon them giving some unspoken comfort for a minute, before Balthier killed it with his voice that echoed throughout the room. "I wonder…" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, contemplating whether or not he should bring this topic up. But this woman was his best partner and there was almost nothing between them they never spoke about. So he continued, "I wonder…how Ashe is doing. And the others, too." He clumsily added, somehow feeling odd if he only mentioned about the princess.

Their stares met. But Fran broke it as she went to her bed and seated herself there. "Yeah." she said nonchalantly, brushing some strands of her white hair off her face.

"Er…yeah. I wonder… It's been quite awhile, you know."

"It has." The crimson eyed woman spoke without looking at him.

"Uhm…Fran?"

"Why don't you go and pay a visit then, sky pirate?" She asked the question carefully, but directly at him.

Balthier looked at her for awhile. "I don't think it's a good idea. I mean, I don't think Rabanastre will become an interesting place to visit anytime soon. It's—"

"But you want to visit her, don't you?" She was being persistent about this, he noticed.

"And the others, if I may add," he frowned. "Look, I still don't know where to go after this. Don't you think Nalbina has grown a bit boring?"

Fran flicked her hair back, standing up and walking towards the door that led to the terrace. Before she opened it, she turned her vision to him. "Whatever your choices may be, I'll stick with you nonetheless." With a loud click the door was opened, and she left him alone.

He wrinkled his nose. What was that? There was something running across Fran's ruby eyes, something unusual and had never been shown before. It was almost too clear. Was it disappointment? Was it fear? Was it anxiety? Was it…

Jealousy?

Shaking his head, Balthier let a bitter laugh escape his lips. No fucking way. How could he think she was jealous? He didn't even know if Viera could feel envious. Viera, shortly, were complicated beings no one bothered to know or understand.

Even so, he deemed them as _fascinating_ beings. Moreover, he liked one of them. Like, hell much. Or maybe more than that.

He sighed.

* * *

Her stomach gave a sudden jolt when the door opened without any warning. Her grey eyes rolled vigilantly. They spotted a middle aged woman in apron and over worn red outfit. Her tendons relaxed once she recognized this woman as one of those chefs. Rising to her feet, she approached her with graceful paces a fine lady ought to have. 

"Your highness," the woman bowed slightly in respect. "They're waiting for you down in the hall. The dinner is ready."

An understanding smile emblazoned her beautiful face. "Thank you for notifying me. I'll be there in a minute. You may go." She nodded just as the chef curtsied again, leaving her alone. Exhaling, the blond haired young woman went to her lengthy mirror, only to find her reflection strewn across the glassy surface. She touched it. "Here we go…"

After examining her reflection for some more time in the mirror, she went out her spacious bedroom which could only be depicted as a little heaven by commoners without status. Determined and unwavering paces reverberated throughout the wide corridor, resounding in her ears as she made her way down to the hall. She had known this place so well. This was her home and despite of its unusual enormous size, she could remember every path she had to take, she could remember tiny things about this castle. Yes, she was not a hopeless little princess who didn't even know the way back to her room.

She had grown up. She had duties to do.

The twin gigantic doors swung open before her, revealing a huge hall where two people were sitting at a big dining table. Once her presence was registered in their eyes, they quickly stood up and gave her their best charming smiles.

"Ashe!" Exclaimed a short boy who hardly could be called as a young man. His brown eyes sparkled joyously and none would know how hard he'd been through just by looking at his innocence.

"Hi Larsa," Ashe smiled warmly at him, seating herself across from him as she flashed the other man at the table a smile. "Good to see you all here. I really appreciate it. Please, be seated."

A man with dark violet hair adjusted his seat and beckoned for some women dressed in fancy outfits to come closer to him, and then he gave his sunglasses to one of them. He fixed his attention on the ruler of Dalmasca. "Ah, Lady Ashe. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Ashe nodded. "Yes it has. And I see you're still popular amongst women," she nodded politely and smiled.

"I am Al-Cid from history, if by any chance you remember; you must know I cannot live without these beautiful creatures."

She nodded her head again. "Of course I do. It would be a shame if I didn't, after what you've done for us in the past." She smiled again at him, before shifting her vision towards the younger man. "Really, I'm exhilarated to have you both, rulers of other regions, attending this euphoric moment. I am beyond happy to have Dalmasca returning to normal."

Al-Cid waved a hand in the air, one edge of his lips turning upwards to form a smirk. "I am no ruler, my lady. But I am a member of the rulers, so I think that also counts. Considering that he didn't have the chance to go…I decided to. Beside, it would be an honor to us Margrace's meeting you again," he bowed his head slightly which made Ashe feel no better.

"Please Al-Cid, it's okay." As they talked some chefs came in, bringing meals with luscious aroma, cooked by the most professional and trained specialists from the land of Dalmasca. One of those women filled Ashe's mug with fresh water while she opened her mouth to bring up a conversation again. "The restoration of Dalmasca means a lot for us, and you see, I'll try…not to call this as a 'meeting'. I'll try to deem this as a, uhm, small dinner for celebration? But of course, we do need to talk about some few things, like our alliance, imported stuff, and—"

Larsa let out a chuckle and the blonde looked at him, giving him a puzzled look. "Ah Ashe, you need to brighten up a little. I mean, this is….what do you call it again? Yeah, a dinner to celebrate the restoration of Dalmasca. Or freedom. Or whatever you want to call it. Should we honor it, don't you think we need to put those things aside, just for awhile?" When the blond haired woman just deepened her scowl, Larsa chuckled again. "C'mon Ashe…"

Al-Cid went into their conversation. "Ah, let me make this straight and clear. You know your majesty; don't you think this restoration is worth a big party?" Ashe's head turned towards the violet haired man. "I bet people of Dalmasca will be very happy. I mean, who wouldn't? You know…" Al-Cid leaned forward and kept his voice audible, just loud enough for her to hear; "we'll help you with this, if you want. We will, right, Larsa?"

Ashe leaned into her chair, rubbing at her temples in a motion Larsa had never seen, and he thought it was kind of funny, it's as though the blonde was extremely exhausted; all her strength drained into a topic she couldn't really grasp. Beside, this uh, dinner was where they supposed to talk about political issues, alliance and stuff, right? But there they were talking about throwing a big party to celebrate Dalmasca's restoration, along with freedom. What on earth was happening?

The ruler of Archadia bit his bottom lip in try to retain himself from chuckling again, or worse, laughing. "You know Ashe, this freedom is what you people have been searching and waiting for, right? So now that it's already in your hands, won't you celebrate it? It's been awhile since the last time Rabanastre had dancing people around the square, if I still remember well. And I do think your people will be happy."

The woman stared into his eyes, as if by doing so she would find an answer. She straightened her seat and expelled a sigh. "…Will they?"

"Sure they will. No doubt about that." Al-Cid nodded his head, grinning.

She looked at him with uncertainty. Here her friends were suggesting her to throw a big party celebrating Dalmasca's restoration. It was true everyone was ecstatic about this freedom after being pushed down into the ground, pressured, and ruled around by someone as devious as a beast. It was true this freedom was what everyone had been dreaming of. But…celebrating this? She'd never thought about that.

"Well Ashe, this is just our suggestion. We, of course, as allies, want the best for you and your people."

She intertwined her fingers together, mulling this for awhile. Had she been too serious? Had the duty as the Queen made her _less human_? Hadn't she thought too much about political issues? Sure, she was the Queen, but that didn't mean she had to abandon her people's happiness… Yeah, that was probably right. Her people's happiness also meant her own.

Ever so slightly, her mouth turned upwards; she smiled. Larsa and Al-Cid exchanged glances.

"…I think, yes." The blonde finally said, looking up at the two with eyes full of hopes and expectations. She really wanted to make her people happy. Because sometimes, there was more to life than just drowning with political issues.

Al-Cid smiled. "Splendid! If you need any help, we'll be here anytime you want."

"And you know what? Politics can wait." Larsa grinned, showing his pearly white teeth.

Ashe smiled at them, for the very first time she thanked God for having great friends like them.

* * *

"Vaan." 

That voice was so disturbing at the moment, though usually, it was what he always wanted to hear. The feminine voice echoed in his ears again, this time sounded more demanding than before. Next he felt his hand being tugged by slender fingers as delicate as porcelain. With an aggravated growl he finally opened one eye, and when that voice became too shrill to bear, he snapped his eyes open. Blue gazed into gray.

"Vaannnnn….!" She waved a hand before his eyes, as if testing whether he could see or not. Of course he could, but the problem was, his eyes were so heavy right now.

"Mhm yeah?" He rubbed at his eyes idly, reluctantly. "Whaat?"

The blond haired girl pouted, placing a hand on her hip as she pointed her index finger towards the dark sky. Vaan followed her finger, only to be saluted by the dark blanket of night. He blinked. She was biting her bottom lip now, annoyed. "Oh c'mon Vaan! Grow up a little, would you? Didn't you promise me to watch the shooting star together?"

He stared up at the sky blankly. Was he hallucinating? Or there were _no_ stars in the sky? "But Penelo… Look, what are we waiting for? There are like, no stars in the sky. _Nada_."

Her friend shot him a glare. "You idiot…" She grumbled under her breath. "Look sleepy head, there are _many_ out there, see—Vaan!" The blonde boy had closed his eyes again, murmuring something about stars in his head. Penelo couldn't help it any longer. She slumped to the ground next to him, chin on hand and knees brought up. She looked so pissed.

"Sorry P-nelo, I'm so sleepy." Vaan murmured an apology in a futile attempt for his voice was so hoarse, barely above the lowest whisper, even. "Ye-eaah…"

There was a long pause after that. The princess of night had dispatched her silence to descend upon them, taking back every word, every noise. In the comforting silence between them, the girl just stared at the sky, eyes distant, mind wandering around through the valley and mountain of thoughts. Her effort, all her patience was all drained into one certain thing; a shooting star. But as she waited there, trying to look determined and casual, why wouldn't it emerge and shoot?

Now that she thought about it, what would she wish for? Freedom? Restoration? They had gained both. Tranquility? She was in it now. Happiness? They had it at the moment. So what…?

And suddenly she remembered one thing. Vague like a mist was a picture of two partners who had been with them not long before, fighting alongside them throughout their hard journey. They were total opposites, but they were the best partners she'd ever seen. Balthier and Fran. She really wished they were still alive.

The blonde exhaled, her breath creating an almost unseen haze in the air. "Hey Vaan, where do you think they are now? Do you think they're still alive, somehow? I'm worried about them, you know. They're such good friends. And don't pretend you don't know _who_ I'm talking about, hey Vaan—" She averted her gaze to her right and there Vaan was, already in deep slumber and of course, he didn't hear whatever his friend was saying.

She was outraged. "VAAN—"

* * *

She crossed one leg over the other, seating herself across from him. Her ruby eyes fixed on the mug under her nose. "So are we going to Rabanastre?" 

His eyes flickered towards his partner as he sipped the coffee. Placing the cup back to the table, he leaned into his chair, arms crossed. "I think I haven't said that. And we haven't reached an agreement, have we? I suppose you still remember about partners, Fran. You know—"

"Partners always share everything together. Should they want to go somewhere, they must talk about this and find an agreement before setting out." Fran finished off, a smirk dancing around her cocoa yet beautiful face. She remembered that line pretty well. That was what Balthier had told her over and over long ago, when she always said '_it doesn't matter where we're going; I'll just follow_'. It pretty much had annoyed him.

"I didn't say I wanted to go to Rabanastre," Balthier cocked an eyebrow. "Yesterday I was only wondering how the others were doing, Fran. So we haven't had a choice yet, have we…" the gunman leaned forward, face looking somewhat severe and interested. "I heard about this promising rumor. Ever heard of Bervenia?"

The slight move of Fran's head to the side was obvious enough; she had never heard of it. She straightened her position and looked more solemn. "What's with it?"

"A city in Rozarria. Full of bounty hunters, treasures, and everything sky pirates are fond of, I assume." He let out a soft chuckle and leaned back into his chair again. He could feel a smirk creeping to his face right now. "What say you? Doesn't this sound too appealing to resist?"

The Viera twirled her white fringes with her fingers, eyes looking over his shoulder and staring at nothing in particular. She looked utterly unfazed and calm, masking herself pretty well though deep down there she was arguing with thoughts. The woman flashed him a puzzled look. He couldn't help but smirk. A bemused Fran was always capable of inviting more than a smirk to his face; oh dear, didn't she look more adorable with those rolling eyes, mouth turned up into a pout, wrinkled nose, and unsure expression? It was totally priceless.

"This sounds great," her low flat tone brought him back down to the earth again; regrettably he had to leave his land of imaginations. "Beside," Fran looked more composed now; the usual, professional Fran. "We haven't been there, have we? This is so challenging." She smiled.

"It is. A week from now, and we're off. How does that sound?"

The Viera only nodded in response, smiling.

He replied that smile with a wide grin. "Great. Bervenia it is."

_¤_--

* * *

**author's note **: finally an update again. Yes yes, Ashe, Vaan, Penelo, Larsa and Al-Cid were introduced in this chapter. They are in the story, of course. lol. Oh yes, isn't everything getting interesting hm? The mention of Bervenia, at last, I know :D 

I hope you liked this chapter and thanks a lot to those who have reviewed.  
So now please review? I'll be as hopeless as a sad kitten if you don't, because your supports mean a lot for me (they also make me want to update sooner x3).  
And I want to be a good girl, which means I'll update this as soon/often as I can x)  
so now be kind and review (:

× _miyori_


	4. golden leaf

**Air Wave**

**IV** : golden leaf

"Did you get invited?" Asked a man, clear that he was hoping his friend didn't get the invitation.

"What are you talking about? Everyone was invited, fool. I mean, the whole Nalbina! Geez, stop daydreaming will ya?"

Two long bunny ears, tinged with black speckles at the tips, moved gracefully towards the source of the voice and absorbed every detail flowing liberally in the air. The Viera cocked her head to the side as she turned her head ever so slowly, before fixing her gaze on two men near the corner of the café. She blinked.

"Did you hear that?" She asked her partner across from her, one brow raised.

The brown haired man, who in the past ten minutes had been sipping his daily morning coffee in such a perfect poise, was now looking at her in the eye. Balthier scowled and dumbly asked, "What?"

A small smirk tugged to her lips. Looking at him like this was one of her favorite things. She leaned forward, some free white bangs brushing her crimson alert eyes. "Call me an eavesdropper, but I think I just got interesting news." She smiled and leaned back into her chair, satisfied seeing her partner in a stupefied mode.

"Fran, Fran…" Balthier rubbed at his chin observing her features. "You're being a naughty bunny today, aren't you?"

"I'd say my ears are naughty, and out of control." She retorted back. It was clear that she didn't want to lose this sarcastic game, not after this gunman had won so many rounds in the past. Where did this witty, self-proclaimed leading man learn all those rhetorical counters?

With a discontented expression glued on his face Balthier had to give in; he crossed his arms over his chest and readied his ears to welcome whatever Fran had gotten. "What is it? Be short and lucid."

Fran let out a soft chuckle at the words 'short and lucid'. Waving a hand in the air, the crimson eyed woman rested her chin on the palm of her other hand, smiling. Her smile, which might look too flat and insignificant in people's eyes, seemed so victorious in his. And he remembered how he'd loved it so much before, when this Viera hardly showed any emotion through her body language.

"Well," she began, "I'm always lucid and short, Balthier. Anyways, this is about an invitation, I heard. And that the whole Nalbina was invited. I don't really understand, but that's all I got." She shrugged nonchalantly while her partner whistled in joy, something he always did whenever a big treasure being displayed under his nose.

"Hey Fran, don't you know it's a very valuable news?"

"I figured."

Balthier jerked his head up when a presence stood beside their table. His expression softened once he recognized whom this profile belonged to. With a wide grin the gunman saluted the bartender, "Hello Dave, nice to see you again."

The old man nodded enthusiastically as he placed a plate of aromatic loaves on the table. "Nice to see you too, again, uhm…" Dave scratched his ear awkwardly, squinting, trying to grasp the name that was staying at the back of his head. He had no idea how on earth his memory capacity could be so messed up like this.

"Uhm…" He trailed off.

"Balthier," the gunman finally said, feeling pity towards the bartender. It must be hard to have a bad memory. "I'm Balthier." He added a smile, as if assuring him it was perfectly fine to forget his name. Well, he really didn't mind, though. It was not the first time someone forgot his name, in fact, many people did. Was it because his name was just too hard (weird) to remember? Or was it because he wasn't heroic enough?

Damn. He really should stop thinking about that.

"So, my eavesdropper got an interesting news, she—"

His words drowned into an ocean of silence when Fran turned her head, shooting him a glare that cast him dumbfounded and at the same time, rather frightened. He moved a little while his inner mind flinched backwards. Fran was still having her eyes narrowed, in the most intimidating way she could think of. "I am not _your_ eavesdropper, sky pirate. I don't recall you buying me from a store called Eruyt Village."

He knew she wasn't in the mood and it would be reckless if he offended this woman more—well, he didn't mean to, though. And he didn't know whether it could be called as an offence or not, because he was only joking. But then again, he forgot the fact that this Viera lacked the sense of humor, somehow. Absurdly, he felt obligated to bring it to her, although maybe just a little.

With an awkward move Bathier drew a hand up to scratch the back of his ear. "Eh, I didn't mean that way, Fran. I was only joking—you know I like doing that. Haven't these years taught you something? I—" He stopped. And he wrinkled his nose, suspicion surfacing onto the outer layer of his eyes. "…Wait, don't tell me you have PM—" He stopped again, and both Fran and Dave were looking at him intently, waiting for him to continue.

"…I mean, nothing." Balthier finally said, turning his head away to avoid their penetrating gazes. Sweet heaven, he didn't even know if Viera had uh, menst—

Dave laughed all of sudden that Fran had to break her gaze, while Balthier slowly fixed his eyes on the bartender. He squinted just as the old man began to speak, tapping the Viera's shoulder lightly as if she was his daughter or something. "Oh c'mon, c'mon, don't be ridiculous… Stop fighting you two, will ya? It's ok young lady, this guy didn't mean to offend you, I'm sure about that." He laughed again.

And Balthier really didn't have a clue whether Fran felt honored or insulted at the word 'young lady'. Well, his reminder said she wasn't twenties but a lot more than that. Trying to make the atmosphere less uncomfortable, he straightened his position and relaxed a bit. "So Dave, we got this interesting news. About invitation. Do you know anything about it? Did someone super wealthy decide to celebrate her sweet sixteen or something?" He inquired.

Dave's face suddenly looked bright. "Ah! That invitation! I know, it's spreading so fast, like wind!" He bent a little; dim lights of the café spraying kaleidoscopic gleams across his wrinkled old face, making it look more real and full of spirit than usual. "You know, Queen Ashe from Rabanastre will throw a big party to celebrate their restoration! And almost everyone is invited to join—despite of course, our current condition. You know, if you're sick or too old or lazy to—"

"Pardon me? Queen…Ashe?" Fran cocked her head to the side.

"Yes! Queen Ashe the ruler of Dalmasca, don't you know about her? She's quite popular here, amongst us. She…"

Fran ignored the bartender. She looked directly at Balthier.

The gunman was staring blankly at his feet.

* * *

Her paces echoed throughout the alley as every second ticked away. "Vaan! VAAN! VA—"

A blonde head popped out behind a door, looking rather irked. "Penelo, I heard you. You don't have to shout like that, y'know."

"Vaan!" The girl grinned widely, standing before her friend while trying to catch her breath. The run here was quite frustrating, especially when the boy she was calling for refused to answer even if he heard those noisy shouts, which practically inevitable. "Vaan! Oh my God! Do you know what those men just told me? Do you know what Ashe is up to now?"

Vaan was looking around, trying to figure out where and who these 'men' Penelo was talking about were. But there was no sign of any nearby, and he began to wonder whether or not this blonde girl was fantasizing. "Uhm Penelo, sorry, but I don't see any man—"

"Idiot!" Penelo smacked his head, which only elicited an angry groan from Vaan's mouth. "When will you grow up, Vaan? I met some soldiers outside and they were spreading this news to the entire town; Ashe's going to throw a big party in a week! They said this is to celebrate the restoration of Dalmasca and many people from various regions will be welcomed, too! Oh gee, I'm so thrilled and excited, Vaan. I mean, wow."

"…What? Oh God. Oh dear," the blond haired boy scratched the back of his head, fingers running through his damp blond hair. He lost interest in whatever he had been doing, and was now looking at the cold stone below, absent-mindedly. "Oh my, I mean Penelo, gee, this is…quite unbelievable."

"I know!" The girl surprised him by hugging his body tightly in clear enthusiasm. He was taken back. "This is gonna be great, Vaan!"

"Yeah…and do you think we can meet her?"

Penelo released the hold, ever so slowly. She looked into his grey wandering eyes and with a slight shake of her head, she had to reply, "No, I don't know about that, Vaan."

He just smiled down at her, longing coursing behind his grey irises.

* * *

Her grey eyes were squinted as she tilted her head, baffled and curious. Under her nose was something with aromatic fragrance, which she knew had been cooked by a professional with best ingredients. But she couldn't fathom out why or how this thing looked so…bizarre. Cocking her head to the other side, she scrutinized the weird-looking food with intent gaze. But it was broken immediately when a gentle feminine voice resonated in her ears.

"May I help you with something, your majesty?"

Ashe bolted straight up, an awkward smile plastered across her nervous face. "Oh uhm, nothing really… I think…" The chef smiled genuinely at her, so genuine that the queen had to exhale admitting defeat. "Actually… I don't know what this thing—I just want to know what this food is called," she quickly covered her uneasiness, adding a noble tone into her somewhat raspy voice.

The chef looked to the food Ashe had been staring at, and smiled a motherly smile. The woman patiently explained, "Ah, it's called Chicken F'ex Golden Glauë. It's cooked with mixed seasonings, inside is cheese, scrambled egg, and ham. The peel is crispy, your majesty. I'm sure you love it. And it's served with tomatoes and lemon sauce—"

Chicken F'ex Golden Glauë?

"—but you can ask the master chef for more details, of course. I'm just helping around here."

Ashe blinked snapping out her trance. "Oh yes, sure. I mean, okay. No problem." Smiling for one last time, the queen went out the big kitchen, stumbling once as she opened the gigantic doors. Biting her bottom lip, she turned her head and looked around once she was out the sweet scented kitchen. A soldier hurried towards her.

"Your majesty," he bent a little in respect. "There's a letter from Lord Larsa."

She felt something bubbly tickling her stomach. Excited, the young woman nodded just as the soldier drew his hand giving a nicely wrapped letter to the queen. Ashe dismissed him while her slender fingers traced across the white envelop. There was Archadia symbol gracing the white surface at the front. She quickly opened it and read the tiny handwritings which belonged to none other than Larsa.

_Dear Ashe,_

_How are things going on? It's been six days, hasn't it? Remember Ashe, tomorrow is the big day, make sure you have everything planned perfectly. Well, not I like I doubt you though, just sort of, reminding you? You know, I really hate to say this, but through this letter I have to tell you that I cannot join the party; we have some big issues going on here and I'm afraid I cannot leave everything just as they are now. Quite hectic, you see. I wish I could be there but what can I do? This is so frustrating. But well, I wish you best luck from the best stars on heavens.  
I guess I'll see you next time? And please tell me how you're doing if you don't mind. Anyways, I'll be waiting for your reply._

_Yours truly, Larsa._

Ashe leaned into the wall, expelling a sigh. Larsa wasn't coming? That was a bad news. She really hoped she would be seeing him again tomorrow; maybe he could help her making the situation less pressuring in case anything bad happened. And maybe he could tell her what to do, since this big party was the first one she ever held, and if not because of her people, she would deem this celebration as good as a waste of time and mind. But then again, this was about her and Dalmasca, so shouldn't she be doing things on her own?

Rubbing at her temples, the young queen moved from the wall and walked back to her room. As her strides bounced off the cream-colored walls, she reread the letter smiling. "So…how should I begin this?"

_Today I examined something called Chicken F'ex Golden Glauë, and doesn't it sound so weird? It looked so…odd, at least in my eyes. I…_

_

* * *

_

Her long sharp nails made a comforting click as they idly dug the mahogany table. The sound was distinct, but low enough not to disturb his condition. He felt so contented just hearing that sound, somehow sending him to a state where he could sleep for so long, without even a second to open his eyelids. But to his abhorrence, that sound was devoured by another noise as she stood up; the chair she'd been seating in was trailed back.

He had to raise his head slightly to see what was going on. "Fran?"

Two red eyes shot him an impatient look. "You better get ready, Balthier. You sleep like a scolded kid."

The gunman groaned and sank his head deeper into his pillow, breathing in the familiar scent, not wanting to let it go. This smell had become intimate with him, almost like a best friend who was capable of escorting him to a deep slumber, a land of dreams. Leaving it would be a bad idea, since dreams always offered the best and reality would just hurt sometimes. But Fran knew what to do with her partner and his obsession over pillows and sheets.

With a sly smirk dancing across her cocoa face, she grabbed the pillow and pulled the sheet away from his body, only to make the man groan more. Satisfied, Fran bent to look at him in the eye before asking, "Now wake up will you? I feel bad already, waking you up, acting like your mother…"

Balthier caught her peripheral stare and locked it with his brown eyes. "Well," he began in his early morning husky voice. "I don't need a mother. More like, I want you to be…"

There was a loud knock on the door and Balthier almost shot up from his sleepy state, surprised. Cursing under his breath, he finally moved from the comfy bed and combed his unruly hair with his fingers—just to make himself look more appropriate rather than disgusting. Beside, who the hell this person was, knocking the door so early like that? So _well_ _behaved_, really.

Out the corner of his eye, he caught Fran chuckling to herself, obviously amused. With an aggravated groan he glanced towards the door, noticing the knocks hadn't receded. He scowled. "Who do you think it is, Fran?"

The Viera stopped chuckling and her face was deadpan. For a brief moment he wished he could take back his question, so that she would be laughing, still. Oh how he admired her divine laugh, so soothing, blessed by angels.

"Oh, it must be the hotel service, I think. I told them we're leaving early and that we probably will just have breakfast here instead down there." She shrugged nonchalantly as she walked towards the door, her paces as swift as usual. With a graceful swing the door opened, revealing a middle aged man standing with a tray of sweet scented breakfast in his hands. A wide smile stretched across his face.

"Here's the breakfast, m'lady."

Fran nodded slightly, giving him some gils before he completely left, half bouncing in the hallway. She closed the door again and placed the tray on a table. Balthier couldn't help but smirk.

"Since when it is _m'lady_ to you?"

She shot him a death glare. "And since when did you become such a kid? Saliva all over your mouth."

Profanities slipped from the his mouth as he ran to the only mirror in the room, staring into it with eyes wide and face red. But the reflection registered in his eyes was perfectly fine, except the part where some strands of his brown hair stuck out in various directions demanding to be done. Yet other than that, nothing was wrong with him. So he jerked his head around, only to be greeted by an unexpected view.

Fran was trying so hard to retain herself from laughing, head bowed, white bangs covering her face.

Balthier groaned.

* * *

It was so soothing to hear the tune her bow was playing every time she released an arrow. Her moves were so agile, every time she leaped in the air she would just land on the ground almost soundlessly, like an angel. And it was him who watched at the back, playing his part by sending bullets against the air flow. They mingled so well; not only their arrows and bullets, but also their selves. It's as if they were meant to complete each other, in case one lacked something, the other one would come to help and fill.

"Don't be too rushed, Fran."

The Viera turned her head, arrow halted in the middle of the string. "I should have said that, instead of you. Aren't you hyped up now, sky pirate? We are going to Rabanastre now, just like our agreement spoke yesterday."

"We are going to Bervenia and we're just going to see this _party_ for awhile," corrected the gunman, in a rather impatient tone. He was a little irked by this topic, somehow. He didn't know why the word 'Rabanastre' could become so sensitive between them.

"Yes," she shrugged. "And we'll be seeing Ash—"

"We'll be seeing our _friends_," amended Balthier again, teeth gritted.

Fran stayed silent for awhile, contemplating. A moment later she nodded and focused her eyes on her surroundings again, setting her senses alarmed. And he just sighed, and scratched the back of his head.

He didn't have a clue why this kind of talking had become strangely difficult and sensitive. Whenever the word 'Rabanastre' resurfaced into their topics, the word 'Ashe' would also ascend into their conversation. Not that it was bad, no; Ashe wasn't a psychopath who in the past had tried to kill both of them—no. Ashe was just her, the new ruler of Dalmasca, who, considering to her hard work all this time, was suitable to such great honor. But it was queer how that single name led them to some unspoken controversial disagreements.

He wouldn't deny having a tiny crush on the queen once—hell, wasn't he a normal guy. He would be lying if he said he hadn't ever felt the slightest interest towards Ashe, but the problem is, it was what people called 'past'. Beside, he learned it would be ironic to have a crush on someone almost unattainable and let it extend into something bigger as 'fall in love', let alone a princess—who was now a goddamned queen. But even if he had let the feeling grow, something stronger than that confined his heart from bearing a love for the queen.

Something stronger than a tiny feeling such as crush, something that even he couldn't comprehend. It had always been there, along with him, noticeable but incomprehensible. It was strong and he couldn't reject it. In the end, this _something_ was what buried that tiny crush and he realized this was more important than anything. What was it?

Could it be…love?

No, not an ephemeral one, the one which could be depicted as a butterfly sticking to a beautiful flower but flying away when something more fascinating and tempting than that came into its flickering eyes. Not that one. But this one was different; the one that was permanently glued on your head and you couldn't take it off. Well, maybe you could, but the pain as you did so, would be unbearable. Maybe it would feel like dying.

But then again, could a gunman, also called as a sky pirate, and self-proclaimed leading man Balthier ever fall in love? Could someone as witty as him devote his life to one certain woman? Could his sharp tongue ever voice the words 'I love you' to a certain woman, instead of rhetorical comments? Could he ever confess that he was really in love? Could he ever admit that love truly existed to heal, instead of hurt? Could he ever say that it was there to bring salvation, instead of calamity?

He almost jumped and shot another bullet through the air when something sharp dug to his skin. Balthier lifted his head and found himself staring into a pair of crimson eyes which were blood alike. A breath of relief slipped from his mouth.

"Damn, Fran, you startled me like hell."

"I did?" The woman raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing her partner's words.

"You damn did."

Fran placed a hand on her hip and pointed her index finger to a dead beast lying not far from where they were standing. Balthier followed his gaze and to show his confusion, he gave her a quizzical look to which she replied with a straight expression across her face. Her lips turned upwards, and then words slipped from her mouth. "I had to kill this little cute beast while you, apparently," she was now looking at him in the eye, finger pointed to his chest. "Were doing some sort of _memory gaining_ or something _and_ I had to kill this monster to save your life, sky pirate."

He scowled. "You could have just warned me instead, m'lady."

"The problem is," she dropped her hand to the side, the other one draping her bow back to its place, across her back. "I did call your name for so many times but you didn't even once glance over my way. What's gotten into you, huh?"

"Er…" The gunman rubbed at his temples, now feeling stupid for his act. How could he be so careless? If Fran hadn't been there, he could have been served as this beast's dinner for free. What an ironic tragedy. "I…I was having something in mind, you know—"

Incredulity graced her sweaty face, which to his opinion looked awfully beautiful under the ochre rays of the sun. A moment later she wrinkled her nose and her lithe white brows were drawn into a deep frown, something she always did whenever she felt unsure or curious. "You…" she began, but trailed off.

"Yeah? I what?"

"You…you are not having this _love problem_ humes always whine over, do you?"

For some seconds, both of them were dead silent. No one dared to speak, or maybe they just opted not to say any word. They were staring into each other's eyes, entering those iridescent layers of protection, trying to figure out what each one of them would say. But being normal mortals that they were, none could guess anything. Trying to be calmer and sort of wiser, Balthier blinked an eye, which ended their intent eye contact immediately.

He was also the one who voiced out the words which in the past thirty seconds had decided to stay in his throat. "I… Well, don't Viera have love problem too?" He asked instead of answering the question. He wasn't sure of this feeling yet; it could be anything silly, instead of something cliché and mysterious like love. Hell, it felt like ages since the last time he actually mentioned that sacred word.

Fran folded her arms over her chest as she tapped her foot impatiently against the grassy ground. The viridescent grass made no noise as her stiletto dug into them. "We Viera hardly have those kinds of problems, actually. We may be simple in your eyes, but we're much more complicated than that. You people may find our act towards the word _love_ is kind of odd, but it is just our nature to ignore it. It isn't on our list of top things to do. And no offence, but we do think it's a waste of time, devoting yourself to stay with only one person for your whole life.

"We only think of important things. The way we think is simple; we must breed to prolong the life of Viera in this world, and due to our long living, it is kind of rare to see Viera getting married or involving their life with men. We can stand on our own so that's why, I really don't understand why so many humes whine over a tiny problem such as love. To us, love is not incessant."

"… …"

"Why share your life with another person, if you can share it with yourself and there's nothing you lack?"

"…Gee Fran, I think you need to catch your breath."

The woman stared down at her partner, lips pressed together as she waited for a response – anything from the sky pirate. She looked as casual as usual, and it was kind of surprise to him, hearing that brief speech of how Viera looked at love from such a different angle. Was that why she barely paid attention to men? Was that why not even once she tried to take a second glance at them? Was that why she was being like this…?

Straight, stoned, and barricaded.

Wasn't it a miracle that he had managed to change her a little; the one he'd met in the past was beyond expectation, so much like a robot with very few choices of emotion and reaction. But no, Fran wasn't the same bunny robot anymore.

Damn, weren't Viera complicated and unpredictable?

"Well, don't you have any answer to my question, Balthier?"

"… …"

The sound of birds flying between every redden leave was somehow so pacifying, calming down his nerves thus he could clear his mind. Every flap of their wings encouraged him to utter some words he never knew he'd ever say. The warm sunbeams against his features were somewhat warm, awarding him a poise he'd lost. And for the very first time in his life, Balthier felt he was worth the title _leading man_ as he said,

"You know what Fran? I could give you a long speech about this but I have another easier method."

When the woman cocked her head to the side confused, a wide grin adorned his face. "I'll show you instead of telling. Don't you think a long speech will bore you? I'd be bored if I were you. Well... I'll just show you that _that thing_ isn't as trivial as you deem it to be. I'll make sure you ever fall in love – yeah, as cliché as it sounds."

* * *

**Author's Note**: oh yeah. I'm a meanie for leaving you hanging like that.  
but well… uhm yeah. Your feedbacks/comments/reviews are always welcome. They mean a lot to me n,n


	5. twilight

**Air Wave**

**V** : twilight

To his utter surprise, he found himself at a loss of words. Some memories rushed through his mind, and he distastefully welcomed the one he had successfully avoided; on his seventh birthday, his father rendered him speechless by offering him the gift he fervently loathed. Promises of bright future soon dwindled away as he unclipped deceptive masks of the Judges. No future could be earned under those metallic coats.

But the matter was different now. The words he'd recited cast him dumbfounded, and under Fran's boring glare, he felt like a little kid again. This time, the sky pirate Balthier made _himself_ speechless. He didn't mind calling himself a blind fool now, because maybe he really was—saying those things to a woman who had just said she loathed _love_?

He was trying to find an ant in the darkness, he mused mockingly to himself.

At the other hand, he didn't know what had possessed him to say that; Occuria toying with his mind? Or his brain was just severely damaged? Both sounded about right. But the only thing he knew was these fires, high and tall and lined in a battalion, pushing him forward. The scorching threat burned his hibernating senses.

"Have you just gotten yourself into another challenge, Balthier?" Fran's voice chimed in, tinted with planned surprise and disbelief. Her crimson eyes looked like blood than ever, under the orange sheepish gleams of the sun. She shook her head, lips twitching upward. "Cannot believe this, can I? You're a brave one."

He cringed. "Yes, I think I am. I always have the bad habit of going into so many impossible challenges."

Fran tilted her head to the side, one hand on her hip. "Not really surprised. How long has it been? Years I've been traveling with you; I'm not aghast."

Balthier rubbed at his chin. "Yes. And as well as you know me, you are aware that my words aren't going back into my mouth." There was a long brooding silence between them after that, in which the birds filled with jovial serenade. After a while, he decided to speak again, "let's resume walking. We're nearly there."

The Viera inclined her head in acknowledgement as she plucked another arrow from her quiver. Balthier casually inserted another bullet into his gun. And as both their arrow and bullet perforated the air, rushing towards the hiding beasts, Balthier's heart raced matching his bullet's speed.

He cursed when he missed his target just an inch away, but Fran's arrow stuck between the monster's eyes.

--

"They're not giving up, are they?" Fran tiredly commented when another beast leapt with its mouth wide open, showing a row of sharp, pointed teeth to tear her apart. But with ease she released an arrow, and soon the monster lay motionless on the ground, lifeless. "They are annoying." She said with brows deeply furrowed.

At that, Balthier let out a bitter laugh. "They won't be monsters if they aren't annoying, Fran." A loud bang filled the air. He turned sideways and kicked a beast before launching a bullet at its head. He looked up. There was quite a distance between them now; Fran seemed to enjoy every tune of her bow, and around her scattered the enemies, all haphazardly piled up in an unpleasant way.

Balthier berated to himself when he saved himself just in time. He stepped backward and noticed more beasts coming. He groaned. "They _are_ annoying."

"They won't be monsters if they aren't annoying," Fran said, as she dodged the ravenous bite from a wolf and flashed her partner a small smile.

"Okay," he sighed. "You want death so badly, don't you?" he asked his enemies wryly, and they growled at him in response. "My, not really friendly, are you?" Unfazed, he pulled the trigger of his gun. "One down. They seem wanting for more."

For some moments both Balthier and Fran—separated by a mass of enemies and obscuring reeds and stalks—embroiled themselves in a small party of bloodshed to survive. Both, although skilled and well-prepared, were trying not to act reckless. They didn't want to underestimate these beasts, especially if they were coming in a large troop with empty bellies.

Hours seemed to fly by as the monsters around Balthier gradually receded into a smaller group. He grimaced and looked down to his arm, where a long, sore gash had been carved by the beast he just killed. He spent some other minutes by ducking his head down, whirling around, stepping backward, crouching to save his life. Finally, when there were only two beasts left encircling him, he let himself relax a little.

But his stomach gave a sudden jolt when a loud, wailing cry mercilessly punctured the calming air. Chills ran down his spine. Shrouded with utter horror, Balthier turned around and saw his partner surrounded by a large number of howling wolves, each trying to rip her apart. One of them had succeeded in hurting her. Fran was cornered now; her mouth fumbling for the right spell to say.

Outraged, Balthier swiveled around and ignored the beasts. When one of them blocked his way, he smote it with his gun and continued running. But he knew he wouldn't make it there on time. Clamped between distress and burning resentment, he muttered the only spell in his mind, urgently: "Blizzaja!"

The effect of the spell was not appealing. He had hoped it would smash down the enemies into splinters, but it just made them falter for a moment. Balthier knew he was never good at magick, yet now he wished that he were any better. As the monsters rallied, imprecation slipped from his mouth.

He failed—that was the first thing that came into his frenzied mind while they howled triumphantly, prey successfully captured. He expected to behold a dreadful scene of splattered blood or broken limbs or _whatever_ that defined demise, but none came. Instead he became blind for some seconds, as white light diffused around Fran and embraced her enemies in a silent catastrophe.

He suddenly felt weak; he could perceive no ground under his feet, the back of his head was tortured with loud throbbing that echoed over and over, and a wave of nausea swelled inside his stomach. As the light faded, leaving only a faint green glow over Fran's body, his curse grew louder. But it was soon suppressed when the remaining beasts skittered away with strangled, horrified screams trailing behind their down-turned tails.

Balthier marveled at what supposed to be the circle in which the beasts had stood proudly, for there was nothing there now. No traces left behind. Just Fran lying unconscious, surrounded by beds of trampled flowers and grass.

He staggered to his feet as he tried to garner his poise. Not even a trace of blood. Or fallen fur. Or something. There was…nothing.

_Wh-what on earth was that? What in heaven's sake did I just witness?_

--

"What happened to me?" Fran queried her partner as she tried to sit up, defying the pain that somehow had spread throughout her body. She clutched her head when her ambience swirled into a blur of undefined colors.

"Ah, you're finally awake." Balthier stated simply, despite of what had just occurred. He walked over to her, leaving his sanctuary by the big pine tree and squatted beside her. "How do you feel now?"

"After almost got eaten by a group of voracious wolves?" She shook her head. "Not really good. There are big drums inside my head, all pounding stridently and refusing to cease."

Balthier let out a low chuckle. He seated himself beside her. "That doesn't sound really good. And you have slept for at least two hours," he nodded his head towards the sky which was the rich color of red and pink; the sun was descending lower and lower into the horizon, casting its dusking rays across the overlapping leaves above them. "I'm afraid we've missed a good nap at Rabanastre, and the chance to walk around and observe our—"

"What actually happened?" She cut him off, pulling herself up and ignoring the protests her cramped muscles screamed. "The beasts. They're…" She glanced around. "Did you kill them all?"

The pose caught Balthier off guard. For a while he just gawked at Fran in disbelief. Her puzzled countenance made him close his mouth eventually, though it didn't make him feel any better. He simply couldn't believe it. Who in the hell had been wrapped inside that blinding light? And the monsters! Hadn't they been _obliterated_ by _it_? Balthier wanted to scream in frustration.

He was the one who supposed to ask the question in the first place.

But then he recalled the occurrence in the escape pod, and how that green glow suddenly emerged out of nowhere. He cringed and weighed the odds. Scratching his chin, he noticed Fran's probing gaze on him. Whatever it was, he couldn't tell its origin, and why or how Fran had never known about it. And it seemed like the light always appeared whenever they were in grave danger.

Balthier groaned and Fran raised an eyebrow, patient. "Yes, you can say that," he finally said with obvious reluctance. "I sort of…eliminated them." At this Fran raised the other brow. "It isn't important," he pressed, back stiffened. "You're safe and that fact is pleasing enough. What we need now is to find shelter as soon as possible. Rabanastre isn't too far from here, do you think you can endure a mile or so?"

Fran nodded her head in affirmation. "Of course."

A mischievous smirk played across Balthier's lips. "Or…do you want some service? To be carried, perhaps?"

The Viera's face contorted into a derisive sneer as she whirled around, her voice sounding affronted: "I need not such helpless luxury, Balthier."

He grinned. "Understood, my lady."

And for a moment, the perturbing thought of that queer light was diminished from his mind. Not that he would find the solutions to resolve it, anyway. Not yet.

* * *

Vaan knocked on the door repeatedly. Impatience was occupying the heavy air around him. "Penelo!" he shouted, irritated. "Would you _ever_ come out? It has been like good _three_ hours and you still haven't shown your nose and it's—"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" replied a voice that matched his annoyance. There was a sound of metal and boxes hitting the floor, then a loud thud against a bark. After a minute that was filled with frustrated groans, a blonde head popped out from behind the door. Soon Penelo revealed herself, her cheeks were tinted pink. "I told you to wait! Don't you have patience, oh Vaan? How old are you—"

"Penelo?" Vaan's grey eyes widened and were clouded with utter shock and almost-unseen-astonishment. His mouth hung open, giving him an idiotic look only he alone possessed. "Penelo?" he echoed, his voice accelerating in volume that invited strange looks from the people around them. "Is that _you_?"

Penelo's already-pink-cheeks flushed even redder. She pouted and stalked away, dragging a dumbstruck Vaan behind her. "First," she looked over her shoulder, her light blonde hair swaying in the breeze. "That is literally impolite, and you should apologize."

"Penelo! What the hell…" The boy eyed her, and she flushed even more furiously under his awed, scrutinizing gaze. However, Penelo failed to see the wonder in his eyes. "...the hell happened to you?"

The question infuriated her. "Nothing." She snapped, jarring her teeth.

Engulfed with brooding silence, Vaan took the chance to observe his friend. Clad in pale pink dress which edges rippled gracefully some inches above her knees, Penelo sure looked different. Her hair was still braided like usual, but this time she used a pair of silky, reddish-purple ribbons with golden lines to tie her hair together. Astonishment struck him again. Even when Penelo grumbled again, he stayed unfazed.

"I don't know what possessed me to do this," the blonde girl said, looking displeased. She averted her stare down to her dress. And suddenly felt ill. "It's stupid, right, Vaan?" No response. "It was my choice, though. I think I have to take the consequences. Never knew they would be this _bad_,"

As Penelo continuously and endlessly ranted to herself, Vaan could just give in to the force that was pulling him forward. Everything around him suddenly became insignificant, and the chatters that long had filled the air were now stuffed randomly at the back of his head. His mouth was still hanging open.

A little voice echoed in his mind; _tell her how astounding she looks. Later_.

Rays of light greeted them as the guards opened the gate.

* * *

"Do you need something, your majesty?"

Ashe stopped fiddling with her gown and with heart thumping loudly against her chest, she looked up at the woman's voice. A gentle gaze met her ashen eyes. She let out a breath of relief, and with authority spoke, "no, thank you."

"You don't look very well, your majesty." The woman said again, bending lower to examine her countenance. Ashe anxiously rubbed at her temples, trying to get rid of cold sweats.

"I'm fine," she mulishly stated, forcing a smile upon her lips. Her eyes darted around the room. Once she spotted the big window, she let the outside vista overwhelm her vision. The street was padded with so many people; laughing and chanting together as if Christmas was upon them; humming jubilantly even though the tones seemed crooked and unpleasant; dancing and jumping around like any other youth. Kids were running around, swinging popsicles and candies over their head; their faces proud. Manmade lights illuminated the chaotic street, and multi-hued balloons were tied to so many poles that arched above the people.

"Your majesty?"

Ashe snapped her head at the maid's voice. Summoning a smile again, she compelled her stubborn legs to move. Several corridors she passed, empty and barren except for some paintings of the past hanging on the wall. The red carpet below made no sound as her feet scuffled against its daubed dust. Finally, after some minutes passed, a giant door emerged from under darkness, looking haunting like a specter of lost wisdom.

She inhaled deeply. Behind her she could perceive the maid approaching. "It is not usual," began the old woman. "For your majesty to act nervous. Is something wrong…?"

Ashe shook her head, gesturing for the guards to hold the door close still. Her eyes roamed around the corridor; pictures of old memories, old glory and victory, old feuds and companionship, euphoria… She shrank.

"I just…suddenly feel so small," Ashe took some steps towards the nearest painting. Her fingertips trailed across the monochrome surface. "As if I was born anew, and still the small Ashe I've forgotten. Surrounded with majestic flowers with aromatic scent, bestowed with splendor, smiling and laughing to no end…" She sighed, letting her hand drop to her side. Her eyes looked clouded, and thunders were roaring behind their gray layers. "I hope this isn't a dream."

The maid smiled gently, ushering her to the door. "This isn't, your majesty." The guards were opening the door slowly, bringing a sudden choir of joy into the dim lit corridor and making Ashe shiver. "And the Ashe you've forgotten, it is time to remember her and reclaim her. You deserve her," the maid whispered softly.

Ashe stepped forward, only to be hailed with euphoric shouts and whoops. Inhaling deeply, she tried to reassure herself that everything would be fine. And when she looked at the people—_her_ people—her heart was brimmed with new hopes. As she stepped onto the stage, she stifled a sudden burst of tears that was pricking her eyes.

These people deserved this.

At least she knew that much.

* * *

"A place of reminiscences," was Balthier's flat comment when the two of them got into the whooping crowds.

"Where Vaan won and you lost," objected his partner beside him, deadpan.

"That is not what I'm talking about, please."

Fran shrugged, a small smirk dancing across her lips.

Rabanastre was awfully bright that night; various lights and lamp streets glimmered brightly and blissfully, as though the stars in heaven had been diluted and sent down to the earth. A splotch of gold gilded the cobblestone roads beneath them. Roads of gold. Made and structured for only kings and queens, but now victory and happiness, peace and tranquility.

But what amazed them the most was the people; they seemed so fresh, the wrinkles that tainted their faces were subdued by the elated aura, and their children were the happiest children on the entire face of the planet. There was no look of depression, lethargic countenance, poignant expression, fear, or smell of death. In one night, Rabanastre had changed.

"You can differentiate it quite easily," Fran placed a hand on her hip, scrutinizing her surroundings with a penetrating look. "This is a big change."

Balthier stretched his arms. "Aye," he agreed, following her gaze. "Shall we dance?"

She gave him a quizzical—_accusing_ look. Her lithe eyebrows were drawn into a frown as she flicked her hair back. "Are you blind?"

"I can see you perfectly from here."

"That is not what I mean."

"Bathed in gracious splendor of night and—"

Fran leaned forward, hissing dangerously to his ears, "I am _taller_ than you, human." She drew back, her hair lustrous under the radiance of the moon. "Don't tell me you're trying to make a fool of yourself." Her lips twitched, and a look of disbelief swept across her face.

"Like that would stop me from dancing with my partner! It's been awhile since the last time I danced, and I kind of miss it, now."

Fran waved a hand in the hair, emphasizing her disagreement. "No. Why not find our friends?" She tried to change the topic, and her attempt proved successful.

"No. I want to leave them guessing whether we are still alive or not," he beckoned for Fran to follow her, and she did so. "That would be interesting. But it's a pity we didn't see Ashe giving a speech. I was curious."

"You have so many games, Balthier."

"You always know."

They were now in front of a bar shining red against its background. Fluorescent lights at the rooflines were gleaming in a surreal way, each light adjacent to each other. The beams filtering out the window were obscured by moving shadows inside the bar. Even out here, the noise was distinct, if not too loud.

Balthier, after examining the place for some time, turned his head to his partner. With flickering gaze he asked, "What do you think? I want to have some drink."

Fran's muscles tensed. Her red eyes reflected off the luminous light, and blended making them look glossy and starry. "Drink? _Drink_, you say? Don't try to remind me of something so ridiculously ludicrous, Balthier."

He waved a hand in the air and shrugged nonchalantly. His eyes moved to the bar almost imperceptibly. "Let's have some fun for a bit."

Fran had to yank him away from the dark door. "What on earth are you thinking?" she snapped brusquely, eyes wide. "Last time I remember, I had to drag you into the room and you slept like a good dork until midday!" She was breathless. Not to her surprise, Balthier answered her quite calmly.

"That happened long ago, Fran. Please, _can't_ you move on? I've grown up a bit." He stared at the dark, wooden door longingly, as if the place was a cave of treasures and gold. "And. I don't like to tarry here. They could find us…or worse."

The Viera had recovered from her outburst. Her rigid shoulders slumped. "…You're out of your mind. But fine. We shall go inside and you drink, but remember one thing, should you get inebriated, I will not drag you to _anywhere_, instead let you root in your chair until the bartender himself comes and pours water on your face."

The gunman whistled. "Wow. I feel frightened!"

"You should." Fran gave him a glare.

Grinning widely, Balthier scurried towards the door, held it open for Fran who wrinkled her nose in disagreement, and closed it again once they were inside. In an instant, they suddenly became deaf; people nattered on about their life, what would become of Rabanastre, Ashe, their work; the over high-pitched tones that were filled with excitement, the sound of hands banging numerous tables, the harsh laughs. But what attracted Fran the most was probably the thick scent of cigarettes and liquor.

She wrinkled her nose deeper as Balthier plowed through the tables and chairs and people, trying to find an empty table. Drinks, cigarettes. She abhorred them. She couldn't understand why humans were attracted so much to them, couldn't live without them. It's as if those things were a part of their pathetic, ephemeral life. What was the good of drinking something tasted _queer_ and getting your stomach full then becoming drunk you couldn't even see your way? You even could make a fool of yourself, babbling about something incoherently, or worse, revealing your goddamn secrets.

Fran didn't understand, and maybe never would. What made beers and liquor so good?

They finally managed to find an empty table, rather far from the core of noise and shouts. Fran, despite her disapproval, seated across herself from Balthier. A man with round face and red cheeks and nose tottered towards them, his plump ass bumping the chairs as he walked.

"Hey! Whacha gonna order? And here I tellin' ya to be quick, 'cause y'know, it's pretty crowded and sticky here, and I can't sit around and wait for 'em to order." His accent was thick and funny, and his tone was rising higher and higher futilely trying to surpass the surge of noise. "So your orders, lady and gent?" He pulled out a small writing pad from inside his filthy pocket. His small green eyes rolled searching for answers.

"A glass of strong liquor, the finest you have." Balthier said, leaning against his chair. "I want to coddle myself a little. And some food that will suffice us."

The man turned his head to Fran, who was twirling her strands of hair in her fingers. "I am not ordering liquor or wine," she stated and leaned forward. "Warm cappuccino, if you please."

"Ah." The big man looked surprised, as if ordering something other than beer was strange. "Okay. I'll be back in some minutes, if the chairs and tables and people were not piled up like pigs in stall!"

Balthier laughed while Fran frowned, displeased by the statement. The bartender dug through the crowd again, his stocky legs moving fast. For a while they just gazed at their surroundings. There were too many people talking at the same time now, and it was hard to make out what their topic was. They probably chattered about the same old things. How repetitive.

The bar smelled of sweat. A plume of smoke billowed from the centre of the room, and it was when Fran voiced out her shock: "I can't believe this place even belongs to _Rabanastre_, with Ashe ruling around. So…unlike the things I've imagined. Suppose to be clean, organized and all."

Balthier chortled and bent forward, crossing his arms and putting them at the edge of the table. He was having that lopsided smirk on his face. "Fran, Fran. You know, sometimes when a hero won a war and returned home crowned with victory, his family usually found him dirty and _unorganized_."

Fran chose to think she didn't know what the hell that statement meant.

He laughed.

"You don't have to be holy and clean and all, really. You picked salvation, victory out of the dirt, and when you bring it home, the traces are still there. But victory is in your hands, and even if you reek of fetid meat from the past, admit it, you're still happy."

Fran stared at him intently. The bartender was now walking towards them, again.

"Well, do you really care? Sometimes light needs darkness to balance the way of nature."

Balthier welcomed his drink with pure delight.

* * *

**Author's note**: Omg. Guess who is back with a new chapter. Yes. Me. I know, how long has it been? Two months? Crap. I've been sleeping that long? Anyways, that's not really important. At least here I am now!  
I wrote half of this chapter two months ago, yes, but left it sulking in my document until I reread it and thought it was a crap, then decided to rewrite the whole chapter. Yes. Painful. But at least I'm satisfied now. I missed writing this fict. Man, I'm such a lazy dork. Please feel free to stab me with a fork should I become sleepy again. 

Also, I know there are more than thirty people _alerting_ this fict, but whooo, less than half reviewed so far. Well, I really want to know your opinions, thoughts, so please tell me what you think; some lines or so, that will make me happy.

To those who have reviewed the last chapter, thank you.  
(oh, and Cap'n Pirate Monkey, thanks for mentioning that in your review; I've fixed some lines in chapter one and two, and will put them up as soon as I can. I hope this one is okay, lol. Thanks again.)

I will update as soon as I can, but before that, I want to type a balfran one-shot I have in mind. Lol at me.  
And feedbacks are greatly appreciated. See you in the next chapter!


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